r now?" asked Frank, sleepily.

"I think that cougar just came up over the rim on a scouting hunt, and
I'm going to go down to the head of the trail and stay there till
morning. If he returns that way, I'll put him up a tree."

With this, he unchained Sounder and Don, and stalked off under the
trees, looking like an Indian. Once the deep bay of Sounder rang out;
Jones's sharp command followed, and then the familiar silence
encompassed the forest and was broken no more.

When I awoke all was gray, except toward the canyon, where the little
bit of sky I saw through the pines glowed a delicate pink. I crawled
out on the instant, got into my boots and coat, and kicked the
smoldering fire. Jim heard me, and said:

"Shore you're up early."

"I'm going to see the sunrise from the north rim of the Grand Canon," I
said, and knew when I spoke that very few men, out of all the millions
of travelers, had ever seen this, probably the most surpassingly
beautiful pageant in the world. At most, only a few geologists,
scientists, perhaps an artist or two, and horse wranglers, hunters and
prospectors have ever reached the rim on the north side; and these men,
crossing from Bright Angel or Mystic Spring trails on the south rim,
seldom or never get beyond Powell's Plateau.

The frost cracked under my boots like frail ice, and the bluebells
peeped wanly from the white. When I reached the head of Clarke's trail
it was just daylight; and there, under a pine, I found Jones rolled in
his blankets, with Sounder and Moze asleep beside him. I turned without
disturbing him, and went along the edge of the forest, but back a
little distance from the rim wall.

I saw deer off in the woods, and tarrying, watched them throw up
graceful heads, and look and listen. The soft pink glow through the
pines deepened to rose, and suddenly I caught a point of red fire. Then
I hurried to the place I had named Singing Cliffs, and keeping my eyes
fast on the stone beneath me, trawled out to the very farthest point,
drew a long, breath, and looked eastward.

The awfulness of sudden death and the glory of heaven stunned me! The
thing that had been mystery at twilight, lay clear, pure, open in the
rosy hue of dawn. Out of the gates of the morning poured a light which
glorified the palaces and pyramids, purged and purified the afternoon's
inscrutable clefts, swept away the shadows of the mesas, and bathed
that broad, deep world of mighty mountains, stately spar